


Ask and Ye Shall Receive

by aqua_moon



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Blow Jobs, Embarrassed Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Almost Apocalypse (Good Omens), i don't understand how this fandom uses tags yet, lots of talking about consent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:47:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23179465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aqua_moon/pseuds/aqua_moon
Summary: They may have been together for 6000 years, but Crowley is still full of surprises.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 159





	Ask and Ye Shall Receive

**Author's Note:**

> This deals with consensual dubious consent? i guess?
> 
> ~~crowley get's woken up with a bj but it's fine, he asked for this to happen and they talked about it as much as these two idiots were able to.~~
> 
> betaed by Char~

It was well past what Aziraphale would consider their usual bedtime, but the book he was reading was just so hard to put down. He wanted to at least finish the chapter before switching the light off. There was something so delectable and decadent about curling up in bed with a book and staying up just a tad too late. The sheets were soft and warm, and the orange glow of his reading lamp cast the room in such a romantic light… it made his toes curl with pleasure. It had taken him a few centuries but he’d eventually learned the pleasure to be had in sleeping, or at least resting on a regular basis. 

Crowley was sprawled out beside him, clad in nothing but his black boxers and fidgeting so much the blanket and sheets were now all twisted up around him. For all his love of sleep, he’d never quite learned how to unwind before bed, so their nighttime routine was chaotic at best. Aziraphale always tried to read for an hour before turning off the lights, but usually he was content to get at least ten minutes of reading done during that time. The other fifty minutes were spent pushing Crowley’s wandering fingers away or shushing him. Somedays Aziraphale wasn’t sure how he dealt with Crowley’s personality, but then Crowley would catch his eye and share a playful smile, or he would feel a soft brush of fingers against the small of his back and Aziraphale would remember… he dealt with it because he couldn’t bear not to. 

“Stop squirming,” Aziraphale said, peeling his eyes off the page to look down at Crowley with a slight frown. What on earth had gotten into him tonight? Crowely had barely said a word to him all evening. Aziraphale had assumed he was tired but rather than falling asleep, Crowley just kept huffing to himself, turning one way and then the other. Something was clearly bothering him, but Aziraphale had learned long ago to give Crowley the time and space he needed to open up. Perhaps after he finished this chapter he could gently prod it out of Crowley….

“I want you to fuck me in my sleep,” Crowley said, the words falling from his lips and into a jumbled mess on the duvet between them. Crowley’s face pinched with tension as he said it, as if the words had left his lips without his permission. The air seemed to spark with tension as silence fell.

Aziraphale had turned back to his book before the words hit him and arranged properly in his brain. He froze, the term ‘ _fuck me in my sleep_ ’ echoing on repeat in his brain. 

“What?” His voice came out closer to a croak than anything. 

Crowley groaned, burying his face in the pillow and thrashing around like a frustrated child. Aziraphale carefully placed the bookmark inside his book and laid it on the bedside table, folding his hands across his stomach. He took a deep, calming breath to center himself and pointedly steered his mind away from Crowley’s words. “I’m sure I heard you wrong, my dear.” There, that was better. He no longer sounded like he was choking when he tried to speak. 

“You didn’t,” Crowley said, his voice muffled by the pillow as he avoided Aziraphale’s eyes. A flush seemed to rise up his neck, his skin radiating heat and anxiety. Crowley didn’t turn, pointedly refusing to look at Aziraphale, and instead he stared at the far wall as he spoke. “I-- I don’t know, I was thinking about it recently and it was just a thing that I was maybe sort of interested in and we’ve never talked about it but I’m curious and-- _fuck_ ! So obviously you would never do that, consent is questionable at best as it is and _I know_ you would never ever do that unless I asked you to and that is why I figured I’d ask because I-- it’s just… I want to try it? So this is me, giving consent for you to wake me up with sex… or something,” his voice trailed off into oblivion, his shoulders so tense they were pulled up past his ears. Even if he hadn’t known Crowley for 6000 years, he would be able to see what the words had cost Crowley in his pride.

Aziraphale’s stomach turned in discomfort and confusion, his own embarrassment creeping in. Crowley’s speech was far from eloquent, but he had made his point quite clear. However, despite understanding all the words individually, Aziraphale’s brain seemed to malfunction when he tried to piece them together. It was not something he’d ever considered, nor was it an idea that he found particularly appealing at first glance. He rather liked Crowley being a conscious and active party to their intimate interactions. He felt quite out of sorts by what Crowley was suggesting and he really just needed some time to process this whole conversation.

“Obviously you don’t have to if you don’t want to!” Crowley amended, and Aziraphale realized he hadn’t offered a response for far too long of a timeframe for either of them to be comfortable. “I just… wanted the offer on the table, thought we could talk about it or whatever...” 

“I… see,” Aziraphale said, feigning a light tone. Crowley’s embarrassment was palpable and the last thing Aziraphale ever wanted to do was make Crowley feel uncomfortable or embarrassed about being open with him! He scrambled to find something to say, something that wouldn’t make the situation worse, without agreeing to something he didn’t know he was actually comfortable with or not. When did communicating become so difficult? 

“Oh just forget it,” Crowley grumbled, his skin still flushed with embarrassment and his voice all but cracking, much like Aziraphale’s heart at the wounded tone. 

“I… I am taken by surprise, that is all,” Aziraphale replied carefully. “I will take it under advisement.” That was not the kind of suggestion he was willing to agree to without some serious thought, he just hoped his words wouldn’t feel dismissive. 

Crowley nodded, still staring at the far wall rather than meet Aziraphale’s eyes. 

Aziraphale cleared his throat, “Well alright then. Time for bed, pip pip.” He flipped off the lamp and snuggled down into the covers. The air between them was awkward and tense, both of them still very much thinking about the conversation that had just taken place, but neither said a word. Now Aziraphale was the one fidgeting, turning his head one way and then another, huffing in annoyance. Any relaxation he’d garnered from reading was long gone. It wasn’t until he finally rolled over, nuzzling his face into Crowley’s neck that he finally started to relax. He could feel the tension bleeding out of Crowley’s muscles and he pressed a featherlight kiss to the delicate skin of Crowley’s neck, reassurance that no amount of awkward conversations would be able to get between them. He snaked an arm around Crowley’s waist and held him close. Sleep lapped at his subconscious easily now that the familiar comfort and warmth was pressed against him once again.

~~~

Crowley woke the next morning, alone. 

As soon as the memory of the previous night washed over him he groaned, focusing all his energy on his embarrassment rather than the twinge of disappointment. How could he be so stupid? To just… blurt that out? “You daft fucking bastard,” He grumbled to himself as he got up and got ready for the day, self loathing painting everything around him. 

He hadn’t meant to even bring it up. It was a delicate topic and he’d meant to ease into it when the time was right. Maybe after a night of one too many bottles of wine or perhaps after watching a risqué movie together, that way he had something to blame it on should the conversation go poorly. Instead he’d practically screamed it in Aziraphale’s face while he was reading. 

_Smooth_. 

“Original tempter, my ass,” Crowley muttered to himself. He couldn’t even tempt one little angel… what a sorry excuse for a demon he’d turned out to be. 

Aziraphale had left a note on the counter, “ _gone to fetch scones xoxo_ ” which Crowley interpreted as an obvious attempt at distance to ease the awkwardness after last night. Fantastic. Now Aziraphale didn’t even want to be around him. 

Logically, he knew he was overreacting. Aziraphale went out for some pastry or another more days than not, but Crowley’s anxiety wouldn’t let him think logically. So Crowley did what he always did when he was feeling upset, he threw himself on the chaise lounge and dramatically hated himself until Aziraphale returned with sustenance.

When Aziraphale did return, Crowley had already gotten bored with being dramatic. It wasn’t as much fun without an audience after all, so he’d decided to take his frustrations out on his potted plants instead, glaring at them all in turn as he misted away his self loathing. 

~~~

Azirapale thought of little else as the days turned into weeks. The first few days after what he officially dubbed ‘The Conversation™’, it had all felt too raw and uncomfortable to talk about. It was clearly on both of their minds but neither wanted to broach the subject. It was a gulf between them. After that… it had felt like too much time had passed to bring it up again without making everything tense and uncomfortable again. Crowley was finally acting normal, smiling that soft affectionate little smile whenever Aziraphale did something silly and sniping at him in good humor. They were finally getting back to a comfortable place, a place where they could both forget that The Conversation™ had ever happened in the first place.

Except that he couldn’t. 

He couldn’t forget it if he tried. Instead, all he could think about was those words, “ _fuck me in my sleep_ ” and the ensuring influx of thoughts and pictures that flooded his mind. All he could picture was breathtakingly handsome Crowley in his sinfully tight boxers with his endearing bed head as he slept beside him and exactly what breathtaking, sinful and endearing Crowley wanted Aziraphale to do to him in that state… and then his brain imploded.

It was really and truly unfair of Crowley to spring this on him. 

It didn’t help that Aziraphale wasn’t one for sleeping much. He had entirely too much time to think and stress over it while Crowley lay beside him, completely oblivious to Aziraphale’s internal struggle. Honestly, how dare he put this information in Aziraphale’s brain and then clam up about it, leaving Aziraphale with the responsibility of acting upon it or not? 

Their sexual relationship had always erred on the side of “vanilla” if Aziraphale were being honest. It was comfortable; built up through mutual respect and understanding, and Aziraphale didn’t know if Crowley’s new request should be viewed as a testament to their trust in each other, or a sledgehammer that would destroy them entirely.

Or perhaps he was overthinking it entirely. 

It had been weeks now and Aziraphale was no closer to sorting out his feelings on the matter. He never wanted to do anything that would harm Crowley or their relationship, and dipping their toes into activities of questionable consent definitely seemed like a bad idea to him. Except that Crowley was asking for this, he obviously wanted this… so where did that leave them? It all felt like a grey area and Aziraphale did not like it. 

He knew at this point he was just stalling. He too was avoiding talking about it or acting upon it. He was as bad as Crowley, really. 

He looked beside him, letting his eyes feast on the sharp lines of Crowley’s frame, softened in his relaxed state. The blanket had fallen down to his waist, revealing the broad expanse of his back and he marveled at the muscles which seemed to shift under his skin with every breath. Aziraphale smiled to himself Whatever happened between them regarding this whole The Conversation™ business, as long as Crowley stayed right here beside him, Aziraphale would be just fine. He snapped his book closed, turning off the lamp and letting the moonlight dance through the window. Aziraphale squirmed down, running a finger softly along Crowley’s spine, smiling at the shiver it pulled from him. 

“Crowley dear,” He whispered. Crowley made a humming noise, somewhere in that soft state between fully awake and dreaming. “Promise me you really want this,” Azirphale whispered, sliding his hand around Crowley’s waist to hold him properly. “Promise me that it won’t change us.” 

“Angel…” Crowley whispered, barely a breath. He pressed his hand over Aziraphale’s, fitting his fingers in between Aziraphale’s own. 

“I love you, dear. I don’t want to hurt you,” Aziraphale said softly, his lips pressed to the shell of Crowley’s ear. 

“I love you. I trust you,” Crowley answered, his voice so soft it was almost inaudible. Aziraphale could hear the sleep in his voice and wondered if Crowley would even remember this conversation in the morning. 

Aziraphale smiled though, the words soothing some of the doubt that still simmered in his belly. “Go back to sleep my dear boy.” 

Crowley garbled in response, and Aziraphale was pretty sure it was a whine about being woken up in the first place. He just smiled, burying his nose in Crowley’s shoulder and inhaling the warm scent of his skin. Aziraphale didn’t sleep much, but he could definitely appreciate a few hours of silent relaxation when he was pressed against Crowley warmth and comfort, falling into a state akin to dozing as his body relaxed and his mind let go of its worries for the first time in weeks. 

~~~

Crowley would spend all of his time asleep if he could. It was warm, comfortable, relaxing… all wonderful things that should be prolonged. However, this particular morning, there was a new sensation fighting its way to the forefront of his mind. He was hardly a stranger to a slight morning wood situation but this was _different._ He groaned, squeezing his eyes closed tighter to fight off the sunlight and shifted, freezing for a moment when he felt pressure against his thighs, pushing him back into place. 

The foreign pressure slotted a gear into place in his head, and suddenly it all clicked. The chill in the air that touched every part of him, the warmth of the blanket that was now gone, the thin protection of his boxers which was notably absent and Aziraphale’s familiar weight holding him down as his breath skated across Crowley’s skin, searing hot in contrast to the chilly air. 

_Holy. Fucking. Shit._

Crowley kept his eyes shut, the haze of sleep still permeated his whole being. His limbs felt heavy and his muscles relaxed… well most of them anyway. 

He leaned into it, letting the heat of Aziraphale’s mouth and the easy pleasure it brought soak into his skin. Aziraphale was teasing, taking things slow and languid like they had all the time in the world which... they did actually. 

Crowley let out a hum of approval, feeling more awake by the second but in the best way possible. While he wanted to stay hovering in that wonderful warm confusion of sleepy pleasure, he also wanted to fully enjoy waking up like this, he wanted to enjoy every swipe of Aziraphale's tongue on him and how perfect it felt. Crowley cracked his eyes open enough to take in the sight of Aziraphale's blond curls nestled between his legs, an image he would never be used to, and would never fail to make him burn with want. He carded his fingers through Aziraphale's hair, giving him a light tug but otherwise letting Aziraphale do what he wanted. At the touch, Aziraphale glanced up at him before pulling off with an obscene popping sound. 

"Is this okay?" 

What kind of question was that? "Fuck yes," Crowley muttered, pulling at Aziraphale's hair in a 'get back to it' kind of way. It was maybe not the best response, but Crowley was still half asleep and couldn't really focus on anything but how surreal and wonderful he was feeling. He was almost embarrassed by how close he was already but he honestly had no idea if he’d ever get to live out this particular fantasy again, so he would rather like to make the most of it. 

Aziraphale grinned, something tense in him melting away as he licked a long strip up Crowley's cock before sucking it back into the delicious heat of his mouth. Crowley thought he might actually discorporate from this, and he wasn’t totally opposed. It was a compilation of his three favorite things in the world… sleep, sex and Airaphale, and if he were to cease to exist in that moment it would be worth it. He was so glad he embarassed the shit out of himself, because _fuck_ if this wasn’t so much better than he’d even imagined. 

Aziraphale hummed, sending vibrations up Crowley's spine and shit he was _really_ close.

"Fuck, that feels so good," he whined, twisting his fingers in Aziraphale’s curls, shuddering at the muffled sound it pulled out of him.

Aziraphale curled his tongue in such a delicious way, following the path of a vein and his lips looked positively obscene stretched around him like that. His brain could hardly handle the feelings combined with the visual. His brain hadn't been given any time that morning to think about anything else, to do anything else. He'd woken up from what he thought was a delightful wet dream to the best reality ever. It was amazing. 

“Oh…. fuckity fuck,” Crowley mumbled. “I thought… shit. I thought you didn’t want to…” The words were hard to form in his head and harder to force past his lips. His brain was just a foggy mess of endorphins and searing pleasure burning him from the inside out. But he'd kind of thought Aziraphale didn't want to do this. It had been ages since they'd 'talked' about it. If what they did was considered talking. He'd already embarrassed himself enough by bringing it up the first time, he wasn't about to remind Aziraphale and force the conversation when his silence spoke volumes. So while he'd been mentally preparing for _something_ all this time, he'd kind of started to let his guard down. He had resigned himself to this not happening. Not that it was _bad_... if Aziraphale wasn't into it, he wasn't into it. No big thing. But based on the enthusiastic blowjob he was currently getting, Aziraphale kinda was into it, enough to try it at least. And it was more amazing than he could have dreamed. Sure... Aziraphale's mouth always felt amazing. But this was... this was a whole other level. Something about his sleepy brain, the pistons weren't all firing just yet, and how his whole body was still in that weird morning haze... it just made everything more intense and concentrated. 

Crowley let out another groan, "You're so good… fuck. I'm gunna come; can I come in your mouth?" Aziraphale hummed again but didn’t pull away which was as blatant a 'yes' as they could manage in their current state. Crowley let himself fall into the building pleasure, his fist tightening in Aziraphale's hair as he tipped over the edge, his hips stuttering against the pressure of Aziraphale holding him down. The pleasure seemed to flow through him in waves, intense and all consuming, his fingers in Aziraphale’s hair were the only thing that was keeping him grounded. He made a noise so high pitched he wasn’t sure their human forms could even hear it but he honestly didn’t care. His soul finally seemed to settle back into his skin, his pleasure mellowing into a bone-deep feeling of satiation. He hadn’t come that hard since... ever? Well… maybe Paris. But Paris was on a level all it’s own which was impossible to beat. Even Crowley would admit that. 

Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his thigh before easing out of Crowley’s death grip and pulling himself up to lay beside Crowley. “How was that, darling?” 

“Fucking hell,” Crowley muttered. He felt like he’d just run a marathon, his chest still heaving and his legs felt detached from his body. As if Aziraphale even needed to ask… Crowley was pretty sure the entire city had just heard him. He nuzzled into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck, taking in his scent and basking just a bit longer in post-orgasmic bliss. “You’re never allowed to wake me up any other way.”

Aziraphale chuckled at that, “I cannot promise that, my dear.” 

“What made you change your mind?” Crowley asked, his voice low. 

“I… I admit I had my reservations about the whole thing but you were opening up the channels of communication and displaying a huge level of trust. Not just by broaching the subject but the act itself is quite… vulnerable. I didn’t want anything to harm the trust you’ve placed in me.” 

“You sound like a shrink,” Crowley mumbled but he could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. Why did Aziraphale have to go and make everything so bloody serious? Can’t a demon just want to be fucked in his sleep without it being such a thing? 

“So I wouldn’t say I changed my mind so much as I was taking my time and weighing the pros and cons and possible ramifications,” Aziraphale continued, not even acknowledging Crowley’s interruption. 

“Jesus, Mary and Joseph… please stop talking,” Crowley groaned. He was really over the whole ‘talking’ idea. 

“My dear, you know how I hate when you use those dear people’s names as profanity,” Aziraphale frowned. “And we should be able to talk about this! If this is one of your… kinks… I’m trying to tell you that I am supportive and--” 

“Don’t use the term ‘kink’ ever again,” Crowley said. Where did Aziraphale even learn that? 

“Really, Crowley. Can’t we be adults about this?” Aziraphale huffed and looked very put out that Crowley was less than receptive to rehashing every detail using words. 

Crowley rolled his eyes, “Better idea, let’s not. Let’s go back to sleep or continue on with more morning sex. You can choose.” 

“So crass,” Aziraphale muttered. “So you enjoyed that? And there’s really nothing you want to discuss?”

“I really enjoyed it,” Crowley admitted, his voice softer, more honest. “Did you?” 

“I-- I find most of my concerns were unfounded, and for that I am glad,” Aziraphale smiled and Crowley pressed closer into his side. While he’d never label it as such, he really did enjoy a good snuggle after sex.

“So you’d be willing to do it again?” Crowley almost hated how hopeful he sounded. 

Aziraphale smiled, “I’m certainly willing to talk about it.” 

Crowley groaned, “You aren’t going to let this go until we talk about it, are you?” 

Aziraphale gave him one of those beaming smiles and pecked him on the lips before sliding off the bed. “Of course not, dear. Now, how about some nice danish to go with our impending discussion? Cream cheese for you?” 

Crowley grumbled and waved him away, still feeling a little too warm and fuzzy inside, a little too well loved to get out of bed just yet. Maybe talking wasn’t the worst thing ever… not if it eventually led to this.


End file.
